I sigh. “That’s not his version. He said he told you to wait.”
Tears brim in those green eyes. The ones I wake up thinking about. “Because that’s what he does! He tells me one thing, then tells you the opposite, and I’m the one who gets crucified!”
“Except you can’t prove that.” I drag the folder across the desk and slap it open. Her name glares up at me in neat black text. “Look at it. Your credentials. Your name, over and over.”
She stares down at the evidence. Her face crumbles. “Because I did the technical work. But Craig told me to—”
“Stop.” My hand slices the air. I push up from the desk, needing to move, needing space. “It’s all over social media. McLarenFail trending worldwide. A travel blogger with two million followers checked into the Ritz-Carlton and is documenting her ‘McLaren disaster’ in real time. Our ForbesFive Star? Completely fucking dead. You know what that means to me. This business is my life.”
“Maybe the business shouldn’t be your whole life, Patrick.” Her tears spill over. “Maybe there’s more to life than being king of your hotel empire or some Forbes list.”
Is that what this is? She thinks I chose the business over her, so she’s decided to take a swing at it? There’s so much evidence piling up against her that it would be irresponsible of me to not at least ask the question.
“Did you do this to get back at me?”
She flinches like I’ve struck her. “You think I’d destroy people’s weddings, ruin your business, just to punish you for ending things?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore. The timing is too convenient. You get sent back to London, furious after our last conversation, and suddenly the system implodes.”
Her hand goes to her throat. Grips the necklace there. “Is that really who you think I am? A vindictive child throwing tantrums?”
“I think you’re hurt and angry. And maybe not thinking clearly.”
“And I think you’re desperate to blame anyone but Craig because admitting his failure would mean admitting you backed the wrong man. I built IRIS. Every line of code. I warned him this new feature wasn’t ready. I documented every risk. He ignored me because he wanted to look good for you.”
Something twists in my chest at the conviction in her voice. Yet evidence is right there in front of me. “Then where is it? These warnings, these documents?”
“They took my laptop! HR confiscated everything. I can’t access my files, my emails, nothing—”
“And you expect me to risk everything on blind faith in you when every shred of proof points the other way?”
The evidence is damning.
“I believe Craig deleted the emails and the logs. Or someone did.”
I shake my head, exasperated. “Enough.”
Craig said she’s been erratic since returning from Scotland. Distracted, defensive, not following protocols.
This is why I’ve always lived by the one rule every fool ignores at least once: never mix business with pleasure. It’s a cliché because it’s true.
Now Georgie and I are finished. Jake won’t speak to me. And my hotel empire is being dragged through the fucking mud while I sit here wondering if the only woman I’ve wanted in years just destroyed me.
Georgie
He steps out from behind the desk and stands right in front of me. No barrier between us now. No professional distance. Just him, looming, and air so thick I can barely breathe. His blue eyes cut down to me, and after everything in Skye, it still makes my stomach flip to have that gaze land on me, even when it’s full of contempt.
It’s almost laughable, in a bitter way: we’ve come full circle. It’s the same sharp look he gave me after my disaster of a presentation, only now it’s so much worse. Because now I knowwhat his eyes look like soft with sleep. What they look like when he laughs. What they look like when he comes.
And apparently, what they look like when he hates me.
God. I’m like those sheep we saw in Skye, the ones munching grass too close to the cliff edge. Too stupid to notice they’re falling until they hit the rocks. Except the sheep have an excuse: they’re sheep. What’s mine?
I stare up at the man I let myself love, and the truth hits me. He’s already judged me guilty.
“You don’t believe me,” I whisper.
His expression doesn’t soften. “You deployed that change without authorization and blew a hole in this company.Mycompany. You’ve caused significant financial and reputational damage. Take responsibility for your fuck-up.”
